


Bravado

by lalejandra



Category: lotrips
Genre: M/M, Transformative Works Welcome, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-22
Updated: 2004-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:17:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: It's a fuckingwhip, a real one, like Indiana Jones, but made for hitting boys like Dom --





	Bravado

It doesn't hurt as much as Dom thought it would, but maybe that's because he's not concentrating on it, not focused on whether it hurts or feels good. He doesn't know what he's focused on -- everything's blurry and sharp at the same time. He's staring at the wall, which is cracked in places, and the paint is peeling off, and he knows that he's drawing in great draughts of air, but really the only thing he can hear is the whistling of the air as Viggo brings down the flogger.

He's done this enough times that he knows that holding his breath is the worst thing he can do, so he breathes as steadily as he can, but the opposite of holding his breath is panting like he just ran the Reims National. Viggo's not making any sounds, and Dom can't see him, but from the way the blows come down -- fifteen so far, though Viggo's not making him shout them out -- Dom figures he's dancing or something. Dom's done it -- you twirl around and hit harder and then you bounce off and then you twirl around and hit harder and then you bounce off...

Viggo stops at twenty-five, right when Dom is really starting to feel it, when Dom is starting to pull at the restraints, when Dom is starting to get a cramp in his thigh. Viggo has the touch; he stops right before it's too much, he leaves Dom wanting more -- and grateful, grateful that Viggo knows where to put the flogger and how to use it, better than Dom has ever been with it, because Dom is kind of afraid of it, a little girl's blouse about really hurting people, but Viggo doesn't seem to care, just goes for it, and every thud against Dom's back made him grunt, but Viggo stopped before it really started to _hurt_.

And Dom's grateful for that too, because if he'd had to spread out all his fingers and make Viggo stop with the safe sign, he would be... really embarrassed.

Viggo probably figured on that too. Dom relaxed into the restraints, relaxed into the slatted wall, set about two feet away from the real wall. When Dom came into the room it was covered with a cloth thing, and some clothes, but when Viggo took that shit down, the restraints were just hanging there.

Not like Viggo was trying to hide them, but more like they were just part of the room and he was just hanging his clothes all over them cause they were convenient. That's kinda what Dom likes about Viggo, but it also kinda drives him mad.

Viggo is the barmiest bugger to ever bugger barmies, and Dom still isn't sure how Viggo managed to talk him into being restrained. Being restrained while naked, even; being restrained while naked and letting Viggo beat him with pieces of leather and rubber tied to wood.

Sometimes about it must have sounded appealing at the time.

Dom cracks his neck and stretches his shoulders as much as he can, and realizes that there's lots of appealing things about Viggo's flogger collection, but having a massive boner that he can't do anything about isn't one of them.

And that's when the burning whateverthefuck lays a stripe across his ass, and then the backs of his thighs, quick, before he can yelp, and it _cracks_ , and fuck, it's a fucking _whip_ , a real one, like Indiana Jones, but made for hitting boys like Dom and --

"AUGH!" he yells, and it's the first time he's done more than grunt and his hands are in fists and he's shaking, forgot all about the cramp in his thigh because _fuck_ that _hurt_ like a fucking motherfucker it hurt like falling out of Treebeard or doing coke for the first time or eating a curry with too much pepper except _worse_.

"What the _fuck_ , Viggo!" says Dom, and Viggo hits him again, and again, and the whistling of the air around the whip is nothing like the floggers, not even the rubber ones that bit, because this one doesn't bite, it just _hurts_ and Dom is sure he's bleeding, but he's not gonna open his hands, because he can _take it_ , and every time Viggo brings the whip down, Dom yells, but he isn't yelling for Viggo to stop and he isn't yelling his safe word and he's not making any of the hand movements that he's taught to other people, for Chrissake, what the fuck?

But Viggo doesn't say anything, not until he's finished and Dom is sweating, really sweating, dripping all over the wood, and his wrists are chafed and they fucking hurt and his ass hurts and he's not gonna be able to sit down and he thinks he might be bleeding, but there's no way Viggo would go that far, because Viggo is _good_ , knows what he's doing. He must have cracked the whip for Dom's benefit, for the ambiance, because the whip didn't keep cracking, just kept falling, striping Dom's ass, and fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

When he steps back and Dom hears the whip coil and slither against itself, he shudders, he can't help it, and all his muscles shiver at once, and he starts to cry. Not bawling like a baby but tears falling anyway, even though he doesn't want to.

"Don't you feel better now?" says Viggo quietly, and Dom gasps for air as Viggo lets him out of the restraints.

"Cheaper than psychoanalysis," says Dom and blinks tears and sweat out of his eyes. He didn't know he was feeling badly in the first place -- or, at least, not badly so you'd notice.

He's not hard any more, and Viggo's just kinda... Viggo. Standing. Waiting. Watching. Dom rubs his eyes with balled up fists. He wants Viggo to say something, something like, "That was impressive, how you can take it," or -- something. But Viggo just _stands_ , and Dom runs his hands through his hair and twists to look at his arse and he's barely fucking _bruised_.

He looks back to Viggo, who holds up his hands. "Do you want some tea?" and Dom swallows. His mouth is kinda dry.

"Yeah," he says. "Tea would be lovely. Where are my clothes?"

  



End file.
